Part 2: The Match
The training room buzzed with tension. Riven stood on one end of the padded floor, barefoot, shirt slightly damp with sweat. Bobby took his place across from him, cracking his knuckles.
"No powers," Bobby said, trying to sound tough. "Afraid to lose to a kid?"
Riven tilted his head. "No."
They stepped into the center. Around them, students pressed against the glass observation panel, Rogue among them. Beast, Monroe, Jean, and Cyclops watched from the overhead platform. Logan entered quietly, arms crossed, eyes locked on the floor.
The match began.
Bobby lunged first, sloppy but fast. Riven sidestepped with fluid ease, knocking Bobby's foot aside with a pivot. He didn't strike. Not yet.
They circled.
Bobby tried a spinning kick. Riven ducked under it, catching the ankle midair and gently dropping him to the mat with a thud. Bobby grunted, frustrated.
Again. Bobby rushed forward, more aggressive.
This time, their bodies clashed. Elbow met forearm. Riven stepped in, feinted low, then pivoted behind Bobby. A soft push sent the younger mutant stumbling forward again.
Rogue winced. "This isn't even a match."
Cyclops muttered, arms folded tightly, "Show-off."
Bobby's cheeks flushed. He launched one more time—instinct overtaking discipline. And without realizing it, his mutation flared. A shard of ice, small but razor-edged, launched from his palm as he swung.
It caught Riven in the stomach.
The room went dead quiet.
Riven staggered back half a step, fingers brushing the wound. Blood seeped down his black shirt. Gasps echoed around the chamber. Some students stepped back in panic. Rogue's hands flew to her mouth, horrified. Bobby froze.
"I didn't mean to—!" Bobby stammered.
Riven stared at the blood for a long moment.
Then he looked up.
He smiled.
"Are you ready?" he asked Bobby quietly.
The air thickened.
The pressure in the room dropped like a crashing wave. Everyone felt it—the weight, the tension. Riven didn't move, but the force of his telekinetic aura blanketed the chamber. Students clutched their chests. Jean's eyes widened upstairs. Beast took an unconscious step back. Cyclops' jaw clenched. Monroe looked ready to intervene.
Rogue whispered, "What is he...?"
Logan grinned. "This is gonna be bad."
Riven took a step forward.
Before anything more could happen, Logan entered the room in full stride.
"Riven," he said evenly. "That's enough."
Cyclops followed, expression hard, voice sharp. "Step back."
Riven's gaze lingered on Bobby, then slowly turned to the two men. He exhaled, the tension melting.
His voice was calm. "You won."
He turned and walked toward the exit, hand over his bleeding side, leaving silence in his wake.
Everyone watched him go, no one daring to follow.